Portent
by Zeralul
Summary: A girl follows a man... to the end.
1. Part 1

I was abandoned at birth by my parents and left at the steps of the local abbey. The monks there were kind enough to take me in and raise me. Although they lived in poverty, the abbey itself was a grand affair; busts of prominent religious figures adorned the smooth stone halls and a towering steeple rose from the back of the abbey, looming over the rest of the town. Most of the donations went not to the monks themselves, but rather to the construction of new halls and works for the abbey.

Honestly, the monks were pretty boring. They would tell tales of their god and the powers of the light, but I never really believed in any of that religious stuff. Just a bunch of old men in ragged robes, acting as though they could talk to God or something. That was just crazy talk to me. As a young girl, I found exploring the town and talking to the many travelers that passed through much more interesting.

I was around 12 when I first saw him in town. Before then, he rarely, if ever visited town. Of course, I had known about him before. Who in town didn't know about the fabulous wealth and power of the Albion family? Augustus Albion was the last living member of the noble family, but he had tremendous influence in the region. Only an hour away by stagecoach was his gigantic family estate. He lived in a royal manor on top of the cliff, a small peninsula overlooking the ocean. Compared to me with the simplest clothing and living with monks, he was like a god.

August was young and handsome. Although he was around 15 years my senior, I developed a sort of crush on him. Curious and hopelessly romantic after seeing him for the first time, I made it my hobby to follow him around town whenever he visited. I wanted to know more about him and maybe even talk to him. After all, one thing could lead to another…

* * *

"Young lady, do you truly intend to follow me into this den of drink and debauchery?" he said, stopping in place. He looked over his shoulder at me. It had been about a month since I began tracking his movements in town. This was the first time that he had noticed I had been stalking him. He was walking into the tavern as usual without a care in the world, when suddenly he noticed me.

"Wh-what? Are you talking to me, Lord?" I sputtered out.

"I am indeed. You have been trailing me under the shadow's guise for quite some time, have you not, little waif?" he replied with a warm grin. "I am more cognizant than you know!"

"I'm sorry, my lord. I will stop at once!" I threw myself at his feet in supplication. He simply chuckled.

"Really, there is no need for prostration. Leave that fruitless burden to the priests. Rise, my fair lady. What is your name?" he asked, stretching out his hand.

"My name is Sidney, Lord." I took his hand and he easily helped me up.

"Sidney! A quaint, yet beautiful name for these parts. It is quite a pleasure to finally meet you. In truth, I've found your repeated efforts to learn about me quite endearing. Now off you go; this tavern is rather unsavory, especially for someone of your age."

He gave my hand a formal kiss before letting go and turning around to head into the tavern.

"Until next time, my lord!" I peeped.

I skittered off through the crowds, straight back to my tiny room in the abbey. I was embarrassed and afraid. Though he seemed kind enough, agreeing with his reputation in town, he had enough power to have me punished for my actions. I waited nervously for a few days for punishment, but I was left unscathed.

With that, I resumed my tracking of August. He spent most of his time walking the streets of the town and buying extravagances from a few luxury shops in town. Every once in awhile, he would dip into the tavern for more shameful activities. I knew that the tavern was a front for certain sinful pastimes such as gambling and prostitution, but I was relieved when I found out he would just limit himself to drinking alcohol.

After a few months, we actually started to have small conversations. I would ask him what he was doing in town, and he would ask about how my life was going. He was tiresome to talk to since he was especially verbose, but something about him just drew me to him. Most importantly, I could tell that he was beginning to become bored of his royal life. I attempted to counteract this with interesting and funny tales from my own life, but they didn't seem enough to satisfy him.

* * *

I casually caught up to him walking in town when he turned to me and asked, "Young Sidney, what do you believe is the purpose of life?"

My eyes opened wide. We had never had a philosophical conversation before.

"Umm, well, the monks say it is to do good deeds and fulfill our duties to God."

"Ah, yes, a conventional response. Have you considered the possibility that this God is non-existent?"

"I've gone through my share of tough times, my lord. And each time, I found myself instinctively praying to God. I think that is evidence that God is a part of us, living with us."

"I cannot deny the existence of some sort of deity, that is true. The holy magics the church wields must originate from somewhere. However, why do we mortals dare presume that this deity is a merciful one? A good one?"

"Excuse me, my lord, but you've seen wielders of holy magic before?"

"Yes. When I was young, I happened upon a band of Vestals, warrior nuns. They were garrisoned with a military force, using their holy medical prowess to heal the wounded. Their skills were incredible; they could practically bring mutilated soldiers on the brink back to life. But therein lies the complication: they could not bring those taken by Death back to life. It became all too apparent to me that the purported divine power of holy magic ends at death. How could our god allow us to suffer such torment? Why bestow upon us the powers of restoration without the power of resurrection? It seems to me like a cruel game of life and death played by a careless god."

I could sense he was trying to hold something back. His facial expression hardened to stone and he fell silent.

"Well, we must have faith, Lord. God has a plan for us all. He's given each of us immense potential to achieve anything we desire. With your resources and power, I think you can accomplish anything. There's no need to be sad!"

He looked as if he was looking straight through me. Something was stirring in his head.

"Ahem. I appreciate your efforts to assuage me. I hope that what you say is true. I apologize for my sudden reticence. I must return home… I have much to think about."

"Yes, Lord. Goodbye then."

A whole month passed before the next time that I saw him. Every day, I eagerly looked over the singular stone path that led to his estate, but he never came. The only notable activity I saw on that road was a disgusting looking man riding a gaunt horse, transporting a cart full of dead rats. Surely, Augustus would have that man punished for bringing such filth to his estate.


	2. Part 2

"Lord Albion must be setting up some kind of zoo at his estate, eh?"

"First the rats, then all of these animals? It must be costing him a fortune."

"Half of those animals aren't even edible… what's the point of keeping animals around if you aren't gonna eat them?"

This was the first time I had heard anything even slightly negative about August in town. These men were talking in shaky voices in a familiar alleyway, as if they had never said anything bad about someone in their entire lives. Rumors were indeed starting to spread about the strange menagerie of animals that were being delivered to August's estate. First it started with rats, then it was sheep, horses, cows, and many other animals. Suspicion of August was growing. He still came into town every once in awhile, and I was still making sure to keep my eyes on him. After all, something in his eyes was starting to change. He looked tired, and yet at the same time, he seemed more alive.

* * *

"My Lord, it's good to see you-"

"Oh! Oh… hello there, young Sidney," he started.

"Apologies, Lord. I didn't mean to surprise you."

"No, think nothing of it."

He spoke in a strange cadence. If you listened closely, you could tell he was speaking two words at a time.

"Pardon me asking, Lord, but what are you here for in town this time?"

"Simply, personal errands."

He began to walk away. I kept up.

"What kind of personal errands?"

"Matters of my estate. I hope you understand that I cannot disclose everything to you, Sidney."

"I'm sorry to intrude."

He suddenly stepped close to me and clasped my hands. His voice dropped.

"Do not worry. I know all too well of human curiosity. It is a quality that makes or breaks men, depending on their tenacity." Now that I was up close with him, I could tell that he wasn't tired at all.

"My, Sidney, your skin is so supple."

"Well, I don't quite know what to say to that, Lord. Thank you…?" My cheeks were turning red.

"That is what separates us humans from most animals, is it not? Smooth skin. Most of the creatures you see are covered in scales, in fur, or in feathers. And yet, their entrails serve similar purposes as ours. They respire with lungs, they pump blood with hearts, and they digest with stomachs. Rats are excellent models for dissection. As well as for other things…"

"Yes, if you say so, Lord..."

He took a step back and put a hand on his chin.

"I must be mentally repulsing you with this loathsome talk of innards. Shall we discuss more comfortable matters?"

"I think I would like that, Lord."

"Fair enough. Not much time remains for me here, so I will have you endure one brief inquiry before I leave you: do you believe in spirits?"

"You mean like spirits of the dead? Yes, I believe that they watch over us from heaven, the great afterlife."

"That is a popular belief. But no, my little waif. What I meant was those from beyond."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Lord."

"Spirits that are not strictly human."

"Oh, so you mean something like angels or demons?"

His eyes narrowed. "I suppose so, if those concepts help you discern my meaning. Except these spirits I am discussing are a third party, more powerful and more mysterious than those two groups you specified. We know that angels are good and demons are evil. Who does not? But what if, and I truly mean what if, there were other spirits that existed with a more ambiguous role in the universe than what we have assigned the angels and demons? Surely, not everything in the cosmos is within the realm of human apprehension."

"There isn't any proof that such spirits exist, Lord."

"And what if there was, Sidney? What if we could bring them over?"

"Then I would keep my mouth shut about them or the monks wouldn't allow me dinner that night!"

A small smile formed on his face.

"Well, if that ever happens, I'd be more than pleased to invite you to my manor for dinner."

"Oh, really? That would be such an honor, Lord!"

"Ah," he said, looking up. "We can deliberate on this another time, I must be off now. Farewell, Sidney."

"Alright, then…. goodbye, my lord."

He walked towards his home path, where a stagecoach awaited him.

"Lord! Not every animal has fur, feathers, or scales! You couldn't imagine how soft the skin of a newborn piglet is!" I shouted as he got into the stagecoach.

He looked at me, paused for a moment, and closed the door. His usual stage driver, wearing his thick glasses and frowning as always, excited the horses to a gallop and the stagecoach rolled off through the trees. I considered the idea of one day following him to his manor. I thought about borrowing a horse or maybe secretly clinging onto the bottom of his stagecoach. Simply walking there would take two hours, so I would have to leave early in the morning to get back to town before nightfall. Would he welcome me if I showed up without notice? Probably not. I wasn't some kind of royalty that he would entertain. I was just an orphan from nothing. However, he was one of few people he talked to. I wondered what what my redeeming quality was.

* * *

Horrible squeals reverberated from the covered wagon on the path to Lord Albion's estate. Each bump on the road triggered more screaming from the pigs. While the wagon was being loaded by the workmen, I had managed to scramble under it with some rope. I tied myself securely to the bottom of the wagon so I wouldn't have to waste my strength clinging to it. The road was awfully close to my face as I watched it whoosh by.

I had been working on this plan for a couple of weeks. Over those weeks, I had observed that more and more pigs were being delivered to August's estate. No longer were other animals being sent there. The shipment schedule was predictable, allowing me to execute my plan without a hitch. I wanted to know what August could possibly be doing with all of this swine. It could be that he was preparing for a feast of epic proportions. Perhaps he was starting his own pig farm. The pigs wouldn't stand for reason though. They shrieked as if they were going to a fate worse than death. But they were just livestock… just flesh, right?


	3. Part 3

Before long, we had broken through the thick forest at the base of the small mountain that the Albion estate was built upon. The wagon worked its way up the steep mountain path, past the impregnable Albion keep and straight to the ancient manor. The mountain itself was covered with lush green grass, uncultivated and open. Birds' chirps pierced through the crisp morning air, and I could see the sun rising on the horizon, hovering just above the edge of the vast ocean. August's stately manor was roosted impassively on the very top of the mountain, as if it was silently inspecting its untouchable domain. The building was extravagant and royal with red-topped towers and roofs. Enormous glass windows lined the front of the manor, allowing the sunlight to stream in freely.

The man driving the wagon got off and cautiously made his way up the steps and to the front door of the manor. I could see now that he had a rusty sword and an old flintlock pistol strapped to his waist. He was wearing a worn overcoat with a white bandana. I took this opportunity to untie myself from the bottom of the wagon and sneak towards the entrance, making my way along the sides of the walled lawn. I could still hear the pigs squealing. Poor things. The man knocked on the door, and after a few moments, I saw Augustus himself answer. What happened to his servants?

They began to converse. I tried to listen in, but I wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying. By the time I got close enough, they had finished talking and the Augustus had closed the door. The man suddenly spun around. I hit the ground in an attempt to stay hidden, but there was only well-trimmed grass there for cover.

"Hey! You. Come over here."

I immediately got up and began to run.

"Oh no you don't!"

I heard his swift footsteps galloping towards me. How was he so fast? Even with my head start of a few seconds, he was able to advance onto me in no time and grab me by the hair. He jerked me backwards and I yelped in pain..

"So, what did you hear?" he rasped.

"Nothing, nothing, I swear!"

"I've got a little friend right here that's telling me you're lying." He unsheathed his rusty short sword and placed it at my neck. In its dismal state, I was more concerned about contracting a disease from the rust rather than being cut.

"No! Mercy, please!"

The man grunted and paused for a few moments before letting me go and sheathing his sword.

"Care to explain what you're doing here?" he muttered through the bandana covering his mouth.

I turned to face him."To be honest, I just wanted to see how Lord Albion lived. I heard that his estate was wonderful."

"Yes, wonderful on the outside. You should leave."

"Why?"

"This place is more ominous than you know. Trust me."

He looked at me for a second and averted his gaze. He talked tough, but one look in his eyes showed that he was afraid of me. No, not afraid… it seemed more like my presence reminded him of something he wanted to forget.

"Are those pigs yours?" I inquired.

"Not anymore. I've sold them to your great lord."

"No offense, but you don't seem like the farming type." He was lean and a little short. The farmers I knew had an air of quiet strength and honesty born from years of toil in the fields. This man just seemed shady.

"Consider me more of a merchant. Now, time to go. I've got places to be."

He gave me a curt nod and made his way back to the wagon. I considered asking him for a ride back to town, but I wasn't sure if traveling with an armed stranger was safe, especially considering since he could have just killed me. Instead, I watched him disappear down the slope and towards the forest. Walking back wouldn't be so bad. The forest was beautiful at this time of the year and the roads here were considered the safest in the land.

I began to head back to town. Once again, I passed by the Albion keep. It was a grand affair of marble and stone. Even a small invading army would have trouble penetrating its defenses if it was fully manned. Past the keep and further down to the right, there was a hill, a protrusion on the side of the mountain. All kinds of animals lived around and within that small hill, but it was mostly populated by moles, gophers, groundhogs, and rabbits. They were all burrowing animals and they loved to dig complex networks of tunnels and burrows throughout the hill. I always wondered how deep into the mountain their tunnels actually went. Directly underneath Augustus's manor was a small coastal inlet with a beautiful beach and clean water. There was no direct path to it, so one could only admire it from afar, atop the mountain. Finally, there was the forest. Giant trees stood proudly in their groves, the path to town timidly winding its way through the treeline as if not wanting to disrespect the mighty woods. The leaves were as green as ever. Truly, Lord Albion's estate was magnificent!

It was on the stone path back to town in the forest where I encountered the first group of workmen. It was a band of around sixteen tanned, muscle-bound workers trudging through the forest, armed with stout shovels. The complete opposite of the merchant. I waved to them and said "good morning," but they ignored me and kept marching on. Their unfriendliness did remind me of the merchant, however.

At first, I paid no mind to the workers that Augustus hired. However, I never saw any workers returning from August's estate, and every month I always saw a new band of workmen heading there. What was going on with the workers? Were they being sent to build something or to destroy something? It wasn't just me wondering these things. I began to hear talk around town about Augustus performing excavations on his land. I wanted to go investigate, but I decided that next time August was in town, I would ask him personally.


	4. Part 4

The next time I saw August, he was coming out of a tent that a wandering gypsy had set up in town a few days ago. He was carrying a stack of old tomes.

"What do you have there, Lord?" He almost dropped his books at the sound of my voice.

"Waif…! You never cease to surprise me at the most inopportune times."

"My apologies, Lord. Do you need help carrying those books?"

"No, I'm fine." He was irritable today. I tried to read the title of the books, but they were written in a strange language I had never seen before.

"What are those books about?"

"Even if I elucidated their subjects, you would not comprehend them."

"Are you okay, Lord? You seem to be in bad spirits." He looked at me with a grim smile.

"Your analysis is more apt than you know."

Suddenly, a small rock flew by the two of us.

"Oi, Augustus! Are those books about how to love-making positions for pigs?" A group of men began to point at Augustus and spit at him in the distance. "Quit talkin' to little girls, Augustus! I don't know what's worse, you wantin' to shack up with her or the swine!"

"Hey! All of you, shut up!" I shouted back at the men. "How dare you talk to your lord like that?"

"You better watch your back, girl. There's no way he's up to any good."

"You degenerate rabble best not anger me, lest you provoke my wrath," Augustus growled.

"Please, you're even more hopeless than your father. What are you gonna do, throw pig feet at us? Or maybe you'll put some dead rats in our beds?" The men chuckled and chortled. "Come on, boys, we got better things to do than talk to this pretender." August sighed and shook his head after they left.

"Commoners like them are the reason why I cannot frequent the tavern anymore. Quite a shame; I did indeed relish the beer there."

"Are… are the rumors true though, Lord?"

"I tire of that question. If you ask me again, then I am afraid that I will have to discontinue our pleasant conversations."

"Yes, Lord. I understand."

"Good. Now, I must return to my manor and peruse these volumes." He turned away and began to walk unerringly to the path back to his estate.

"Lord? By the way, were you serious about your offer to let me eat dinner with you at your manor?"

He stopped in place and rubbed his chin.

"Yes I was. In fact… why don't you come with me now and I'll have you for dinner tonight?"

"I would love that, Lord. It would be an honor!"

"Good to hear," he said without smiling. "Hurry up then. I would like to return home before nightfall. This town is beginning to become… unruly."

"I'll need to change my clothes, gather some things, get ready."

"Meet me at my stagecoach in 30 minutes then. Be prompt."

* * *

Every inch of his manor was decorated. There were magnificent crests, amazing portraits, and stone busts on every wall and in every corner. The marble floors were covered with lush rugs and intricate chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Huge glass windows allowed copious amounts of sunlight to pour in during the day, and an ocean of candles and torches were lit up by the time I entered. The sun was setting, and we sat at opposite ends of a long dining table. A wooden panel slid open, revealing ten different lavish dishes. Augustus got up and began transferring them to the table.

"Unfortunately, a majority of my servants have fallen victim to a strange illness. Only a few remain, so the burden of transferring dishes is up to me," he explained. I got up.

"Let me help you, Lord."

"Thank you."

The food was moved and we were about to say a prayer when a series of loud knocks on the main doors interrupted us.

"Excuse me. I must see who it is."

After a few minutes, he returned to the dining table with a beautiful woman. She had matured in ways that I hadn't, and her long brown hair seemed to give off a mysterious aura. She wore a leather belt with numerous pouches attached. She noticed me, smiled, and nodded. Lord Augustus's look in his eyes immediately told me that he was entranced by her.

"Sidney, it appears that another guest will be joining us for dinner tonight. What did you say your name was, fair lady?"

"My name is Acta," she said with a strange accent.

"Well, Acta, please have a seat."

Augustus pulled out Acta's chair for her and pushed it in for her as well. They smiled at each other the whole time. I was looking forward to some one-on-one time with Lord Augustus, but it looked as if my plans were shot. At least the food was delicious.

"This food, quite good my lord, but I think I can improve it," Acta said. "This bare-bone recipe needs spice." She pulled out some mysterious herbal powder and sprinkled it on the dishes. She took a bite of her improved turkey. "Now it is perfect. Try it, my lord."

Augustus took a bite of his meat and his eyes opened wide. He put both hands on his throat and stopped moving, his mouth wide open.

"Lord Augustus, are you okay?" I shouted. I got up to run to his side, but he suddenly swallowed.

"Acta, this is amazing! I never expected that mere herbs could enhance taste to this degree. That was singularly striking," he gasped.

"Lord Augustus, that is only the start of what herbs can do. Please, try all the other improved dishes. You too, Sidney."

I took the smallest spoonful of mashed potatoes that I could and put it into my mouth. I didn't expect that to be too much. It felt like a deadly explosion of flavor. I found myself shoveling as much of the mashed potatoes I could down my throat. It was so delicious!

"This… is so… good!" I managed to choke out as I devoured my food. What a contrast with what I had to eat back at the abbey!

"Yes, yes, eat up, Sidney," Acta said with a grin. "Glad to see you two appreciate my work. Of course, the base food was good as well."

We all ate as much as we could, but it was impossible to finish all ten dishes, no matter how delectable they had become.

"My caretaker will return you home, Sidney. I hope you enjoyed dinner," Augustus said.

"It was fantastic. Thank you for this great honor."

"It was my pleasure. Acta, will you be requiring transportation tonight?"

"Oh, no, I'm perfect like this, my lord."

The two of them walked me outside. I waved at the bespectacled caretaker on the stagecoach as I approached, but he kept staring straight forward with his eternal frown.

"Get on in," he stated.

"Okay, alright."

As the stagecoach began to move, I saw Lord Augustus and Acta waving goodbye to me. I looked back a bit later and could barely make out that they had wrapped their arms around each other and were kissing. I turned away and felt my stomach drop.


	5. Part 5

I hadn't seen Lord Augustus for over a month since my visit, but I did notice that Acta had been coming to town once every week or so. The disturbing part was that she always came from the manor. Every time, she would go to the gypsy to buy mysterious herbs, plants, and spices. From the bulges in her pouches, I could tell that she was buying large quantities of the stuff. Without fail, she would then head back to the road to Augustus's estate. These days, people besides me were wary enough to also notice this. After all, the atmosphere of the town as of late had been growing more tense as more foreign workers and dangerous-looking men traveled through town and made their way to Lord Augustus. People of the town began to accost these intruders. Acta was no exception; this led to a particularly violent encounter.

"You another one of Augustus's harem?" I saw a man call out to Acta as she was making her way from the gypsy's wagon. "Wanna tell us what you're doing around here?" He was with a group of three other men.

"Mister, I wouldn't accuse me of such things if I were you," Acta responded.

"Yeah, and what're you gonna do about it? Curse me?"

"Keep your distance and you will not have to find out," she growled.

"This is our town, scrub. It'd be best for you to not come back."

"Yeah, beat it!" another man in the group called out.

"I go wherever I please, yokel. By the will of our lord, Augustus, I will do his bidding."

"So you do work for him!"

The man approached Acta and waved for the rest of his group to follow him. They formed a circle around her and slowly began to close in. She drew the strange wooden mace hanging from her leather belt.

"Hey! What do you guys think you're doing? Don't fight!" I shouted.

"This is for our town's good, Sidney! Stay out of this!" one of the men yelled back.

"She didn't do anything wrong!"

"Then why don't you tell us what you've got in those bags?" he asked Acta, gesturing at her pouches with the dagger he had just drawn.

"It is none of your business. You have no right to know."

"It's something illegal then. In that case, then we need to take them from you."

She took a large seed out from a pouch and swallowed it. The man lunged and grabbed at one of the pouches on her side, but she stepped sideways and firmly kneed the man in the stomach. He keeled over.

"Why you little…!"

Another man with the dagger advanced on her and slashed her across the chest. A strange yellow powder billowed out from the rip, quickly engulfing the entire group. Everyone began coughing uncontrollably, dropping their weapons. Everyone except Acta. She examined the rip in her dress, shook her head, and smacked one of the men in the face with her hammer. He fell to the ground.

"What… is… this?" one of the men choked out while clutching at his throat. She smiled.

"Something illegal."

One by one, she knocked out the men with her mace. By the time the toxic cloud cleared, only one man was left conscious, gasping for air and crawling away. Terrified screams came from the townspeople that had witnessed the attack. Acta strolled after the crawling man and put her foot on the back of his head.

"Remember, serfs of Lord Augustus: this was all in self-defense. This cut is proof." She gestured to the slash on her dress.

Acta held her mace in both hands. With a shout, she brought it down straight through the man's head. There was a sickening crack. Blood and brains flew everywhere.

"It is done. This man's body will be returned to Lord Augustus as evidence."

She hoisted his corpse on her shoulders and walked away. Other townspeople ran to the felled men to try and help them. I ran after Acta.

"Why did you do that? You killed him!" I yelled.

"They needed to know their place, Sidney. Are you also willing to tolerate such offenses against your good lord's name?"

"I agree that it was wrong of them to denounce him, but you didn't have to resort to murder!"

"It was self-defense, like I told them."

"Self-defense is subduing them, but what you did? Smashing a townsperson's head in is murder!"

"Then we must agree to disagree, Sidney."

"Where are you going now?"

"To Lord Augustus's manor."

"Well then… I don't think you should come back."

"I do not plan to. Lord Augustus is all I need. He is a great, great man," she said emphatically. "Goodbye, Sidney. It saddens me to know that you will not share our great vision for the future."

"Why do you need to take his body? His family will want it."

"Oh, do not worry about that. I am sure that they will see it soon enough." She laughed maniacally as she walked away.

I stood there in disbelief and horror. Was August really consorting with someone of this moral and mental condition? What had happened to him in the past year? Suddenly, the words of the man who had sold August those pigs came back to my mind.

"This place is more ominous than you know. Trust me."

I swore that I would get to the bottom of this and help restore Lord Augustus's honorable name. But for now, I had to return to town and behold the fate of those men Acta had attacked.

* * *

But they had died before I found them again. Their eyes had shriveled away and their muscles were withered so much that their bones were almost visible through what remained of their thin skin. People surrounded them, some shouting angrily and others weeping loudly.

"You heard that homicidal witch. She said she was working for Lord Augustus. He's gone mad, I say!" a man exclaimed.

"Almost everyone who goes to his estate never returns. And those who do are totally insane," a woman pointed out.

I started to back away from the crowd. People had started looking at me, and others were pointing. A few of them were whispering to each other. I knew that this was the best time to return to my room in the abbey. No one would dare attack me under the protection on the monks and on the holy site of the abbey. And so I left before I could get hurt.


	6. Part 6

Lord Albion had not come to the town for a few months now. This was probably for the best since I was certain the people would turn violent at the sight of him. Although more diggers passed through town and went to his estate every week, the townspeople were now hesitant about confronting them after what happened with Acta. A few enraged citizens armed themselves with pitchforks and promised to find out the truth from Lord Albion, but they never returned from his estate. I went about my regular business, doing odd jobs for people to keep myself fed. Slowly, my interest in Augustus's activities faded.

However, a strange assembly of caravans surrounded by twelve hooded figures made its way into town one day. A horrible rotting smell came from the covered wagons. I was walking through town to the vegetable stand when one of the figures confronted a townsperson.

"Peasant! Where is Lord Albion's estate?" he rasped.

"Who are you calling peasant?"

"Feh. I see the peasants in this country are unbehaved and crude. Perhaps I'll go ask a more intelligent specimen."

"I got your intelligent specimen right here!" The man balled his right hand into a fist and punched the stranger in the face. He was knocked onto his back.

"Joseph, Martin, the rest of you! Anyone who cares about our town! Grab your weapons! It's about time we did something about these Albion worshippers."

The stranger snapped his fingers. Two other robed figures staggered to his side and helped him up.

"Lord Albion has clearly lost control of his people. No wonder he wanted our council," the stranger said to his fellows. Some of the other figures around the caravan nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, a small group of townspeople with clubs and pitchforks was beginning to surround the caravan.

"Soldiers! Defensive positions!" one of the robed men yelled. Eight of the figures formed a tight perimeter around the caravan. They drew longswords from under their robes.

"Dear peasants of Lord Albion, it would be in your best interests to direct us to his estate and peacefully go on with your business, unless you wish to face a fate worse than death," a robed man shouted.

"Forget that! Get 'em, boys!"

Two men charged at one of the robed soldiers with their clubs, ready to knock his head off. The soldier swung his longsword in a wide horizontal arc, cleaving through one of the men with a slash that sent him to the graveyard. His top half plopped unceremoniously onto the dirt. The other man survived long enough to bat the soldier in the side of the head with his wooden club. The soldier's head flew straight off and landed a few feet away.

"You're dead!" he yelled furiously.

A few moments passed, but the headless soldier did not fall. The man could only stare incredulously as he was chopped in half by the soldier's still-moving body. The soldier's head was a skull, and the soldier was a skeleton!

"In a way, he was right," the robed figure said with a chuckle as he removed his hood. He was a pale, old man. The other figures removed their hoods. Three of them were human, but the rest of them were skeletons. Animated bones? How was this possible? Was this… necromancy?

"This soldier is indeed dead. But he is also alive. Have you never heard of the undead?" he said, walking over to the skull and fixing back onto the skeleton's body. "Unless the rest of you maggots want to join our entourage, I suggest you stay back. Bone soldiers! Gather the bodies!"

Two of the skeletons walked over to the two slain men and threw their halved corpses into one of the covered wagons. I briefly caught sight of what was in the wagon, but I refused to believe it…! A pile of rotting corpses! There was no way August could be entertaining these heathens, these necromancers. They reeked of pure evil.

A thought raced through my mind: maybe if I ran fast enough, I could get some of the monks to fight these undead. The undead were supposedly weak to holy powers. However, the image of the terrified, wrinkled old monks waving around their wooden crosses before being killed by those skeletons burned into my imagination. The monks were powerless. There was no way I was going to subject my caretakers to such a fate. Also, the meager amounts of holy water stored at the church wouldn't be enough to repel all of the undead.

One of the skeletons grabbed a man by his shirt and easily lifted him off the ground.

"So, would you kindly direct us to where Lord Albion's estate is located?" a necromancer hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. D-don't kill me!" the panicked man blubbered.

"Excellent. You'll be coming with us as insurance to make sure your friends don't do anything stupid."

The skeleton put the man down but put its sword up against his back immediately.

"Now, march!"

The skeleton gave the frightened man a shove and he stumbled off towards the road to Augustus. The bone soldier's sword remained practically glued to him. The rest of the necromancer caravan slowly turned and followed. Now that I knew what to listen for, the rattling of the skeletons' bones was obvious. They shuffled their bone feet across the dirt. They were clumsy, but it was evident that they were terribly strong. No regular human could chop someone in half using a one-handed sword. I could hear people silently weeping and hushed talk of future plans as the caravan disappeared. I knew that this town couldn't take much more of this and that something bloody and horrible would happen before any of us would find peace. I had to know the truth and figure out if Lord Augustus had really become corrupted, and if so, how it happened. What was he doing in his estate with all those men and strange visitors? He had never once threatened me or shown me any sort of ill will. It was supremely difficult for me to imagine that he was as despicable as the rest of the townspeople were saying. However, the fact that full-blown necromancers were traveling through our town to visit Lord Albion put many doubts into my mind. It was up to me to figure out the truth and try to reason with August. It was time to pay him another visit.


	7. Part 7

It took about a week, but I managed to pack a sack full of supplies for the trek to Augustus's mansion. In it were all the foodstuffs and camping supplies I could scrounge from around town. The people were mostly sympathetic to my quest for truth and wanted to see Lord Albion brought to justice. I borrowed a particularly sharp kitchen knife from the abbey as well as a few bottles of holy water, just in case I encountered a vile undead. I wasn't planning on hurting anyone, just defending myself or running away at the first sign of trouble. Someone of my stature would have a difficult time defeating a group of bone soldiers anyway, especially alone.

And so I set off on that path to Augustus's estate in the morning. This time, no birds chirped in the forest. I saw very few wild animals about, and I almost tripped many times due to rogue roots sprouting from irregular places in the path. What was going on? On the bright side, the trees in the forest seemed to be growing at a significant rate. However, it was enough to start blocking some of the sunlight. I knew it would be tough to travel through the forest at night without even the dim light from the moon. I would definitely need to camp for at least one night and return through the forest during the day.

I passed by the enormous Albion keep on the way. I heard the clanging of metal and sounds of combat coming from within. It had been a while since the Albion family had recruited soldiers. It made sense that Augustus would hire them now, seeing as how the town was starting to get riled up. It was insurance just in case the whole town decided to riot and send an angry mob to his doorstep.

I finally arrived at Augustus's manor. I took a deep breath and then knocked on the solid wooden door. After a tense minute, Lord Augustus himself opened the door. He looked even more pale than before.

"Sydney. What are you doing here?"

"The town is stirring up some crazy rumors about you. Do you have time to talk, my lord?" He scrunched up his face for an instant and puckered his lips.

"My fair Sydney. Let us take a stroll along the ocean path and we can discuss the situation."

We walked down the path from his manor alongside the steef cliff overlooking the ocean. Though it was a long drop, the crashing of the waves against the cliffside could still be heard.

"The ocean: calm and simple on the surface, but unknown in the depths. The size and contents of the ocean are more incomprehensible to us mortals than many other things and concepts, but still supremely elementary compared to all of the existences in the cosmos," he mused, looking upset. "Tell me Sydney, is it a grievous wrong to attempt to understand the ocean?"

"No, of course not. There are many explorers still mapping out the rest of the ocean. It's a noble goal, in my humble opinion."

"Perhaps it is. Ah, have you heard the noteworthy tale of the old sailor obsessed with vengeance upon a seemingly inscrutable white whale?"

"I have not. It sounds interesting."

"There is no need to feign interest, little waif. Anyways, this man's undying passion for the concept of this one creature ultimately is the cause for his own destruction. It is a most disturbing thing."

"I see. What brought this to mind, Lord?"

"I am but one man… one human man. And yet I seek to understand all things, with a burning passion. It is unquenchable. I fear I will go insane if I fail in my quest. I may well throw myself into the very ocean."

"Please don't do that, Lord! I believe in you. Don't do something so foolish."

"Only time will tell who the true fool is," he remarked, staring down at the ocean. I gently turned him around towards me.

"Let's head back to the manor, Lord. These unclean thoughts need to be avoided."

"I killed them, Sydney."

"...What, Lord?"

"I assume that is the reason why you are here. Those men… those necromancers. A few days ago, they came to my manor to pillage it and take from me all of my family's knowledge. You see, I have a library brimming with priceless books. I saw their skeleton soldiers. I had no choice but to defend myself. In doing so, I murdered them. Their horrid faces are burned into my mind! I would do anything to get them out!"

He started to walk to the edge of the cliff, but I firmly grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"No, Lord! You did what you had to do. They came to kill you, and you defended yourself. It's not your fault." He sighed.

"Yes, that is what logic dictates. But mere logic cannot drive the realization of my actions away. I am a cursed man, Sydney. Just let me be."

I refused to let go of his hand. I felt that the moment I released my grip, he would go running and leap off into the depths without a second thought. He sighed deeply.

"I appreciate your concern, little waif. Do not worry, I will not end myself. There is still much understanding that needs to be done. This is simply the first mental obstacle on my path to true enlightenment." He turned to me and gave me a weak smile. "Please inform the townspeople that I have dispatched of the necromancers and that I had nothing to do with their coming here, save for my family's wealth."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, I will do as you say, Lord. I must say that I'm very glad to hear that you weren't consorting with such wicked men."

"Their path led them to ruins. They are serving a greater purpose now, in the realm of the dead," Augustus stated, looking over my head towards the horizon.

"The powers that be will take care of it."

"Whatever they are."

We walked back to his manor. I told him about my daily routines and the mood of the town in the wake of the necromancer encounter. He nodded grimly and told me that he would be prepared to address the town personally if it came to it. As we got to the door, there was a sound of a loud explosion from within the manor.

"Sydney, you must return home immediately. The caretaker will send you back in my stagecoach."

"What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"It is something I must handle alone. Do not worry. Now go."

He shouted for the caretaker and practically shoved me into the stagecoach.

"As quickly as possible, caretaker."

"Yes, Lord," he grunted.

And with that, I was sent back to town with a message meant to sooth the people. However, the explosion was anything but soothing.


	8. Part 8

"There was this huge, hideous woman in the forest! She killed Adrian!"

"Son, I've heard just about enough of this. How could you just lose a dog like that?"

"No, I swear, I'm telling the truth!"

"Your father trusted you to train that dog! He wants you to take over when he retires. After he hears about this, I'm not sure what he will think."

It had been a week since I was removed from the the Albion mansion. I was doing some minor begging when I came across a blonde-haired officer presumably arguing with his aged mother. I recognized him as the sheriff's son. Such outbursts were not surprising; everyone in town was getting restless because of demented rumors involving Lord Augustus.

"I love- I loved Adrian! You know that to be true! There is no way I could be so careless as to lose him!" he shouted. Tears began to stream down the son's face. His mother continued to glare at him sternly. "Stop crying, Osmond. You're almost 30, for goodness' sake."

He wiped away his tears, revealing his fury-stricken face.

"I'm going to find that woman and I am going to bring her to justice!"

"Oh… I would advise against that, young man!" a raspy voice called out. I looked over and saw that an old man wearing rags had appeared out of nowhere to drag himself over to the two of them.

"That big... freo, the big hag your son speaks of? Oh… she is very real! And very... pleolic!" He began to cackle madly. "This is the beginning of the end for us. It has all been foretold!"

The mother groaned. "Lord Albion is ruining this town. Now there are even more indigents lurking around than ever!" However, Osmond did not brush aside this mysterious man.

"You know she's real? When did you see her?" he asked with eager eyes.

"Many months ago, in one of my many nightmares. Your mighty Lord Albion begins his great descent from riches to... hryre. Say goodbye to all your loved ones, fleshlings!"

The old man once again broke into laughter, which turned quickly to sobbing.

"He's not of right mind, Osmond… and I'm beginning to think that you're losing it too," his mother grumbled. Osmond ignored her.

"Mister, tell me where to find that woman. I must avenge Adrian."

The old man grabbed him and said, "She lurks in Albion's… weald, his doomed forest, but you will not find her for many, many years. Give up your quest to death for now, young man. You will know when you are called."

He let go of Osmond and sauntered away from him and towards me, chortling. Osmond ran into his house. The old man stopped in front of me and stared into my eyes.

"Is there something you want, sir?"

"Your fate is tied to the mereflod, freo."

"Come again?"

"The mereflod," he repeated, making whooshing sounds and making waves with his arms.

"Oh, do you mean the ocean?"

The old man nodded. "You will understand, soon enough, freo."

I looked over his shoulder and saw that Osmond had reappeared with a spiky baton in hand.

"Where do you think you're going?" his mother shouted.

"To find her."

With that, he ran off to the Albion forest, thirsting for vengeance. I kept an eye out for him and saw him return after a few days. He was dirty and looked exhausted. I could tell that he did not succeed. A man saw him and ran up to him.

"Officer Osmond, where have you been? My wife was kidnapped!"

"Stay calm, man. When and where did this happen?"

"It was yesterday night, in the Albion forest. I told her that things were getting dangerous around there, but she insisted on her evening walk."

Osmond perked up. "Did you see who kidnapped her?"

"Who? More like what! It was this fat and ugly lady! She had warts growing everywhere! Her stench is burned into my nose! It was horrible!"

Osmond's hands balled up into fists.

"The old hag!"

In the following weeks, more and more people were reporting kidnappings. The rambling old man from before had begun to give loud sermons in the town square, warning us of the dangers of the "hag in the weald" and blaming Lord Augustus for her appearance. He insisted that we will all face terrible consequences if we did not deal with Augustus soon. He certainly got the people of the town riled up. A committee was formed, and it was decided that a town militia would be armed. This group would march on the Albion manor to make demands and get answers. I said what I could against the formation of the militia, but no one listened to someone of such low social standing as me. I wanted to go and warn Lord Augustus, but it had been made clear that the forest was not safe anymore. The only other way to reach his estate without traveling through the forest was by sea, but I had no idea how I was to procure a boat.

Many people quickly volunteered for the militia, and the group was formed faster than I ever expected. They were armed with all kinds of tools and weapons: pitchforks, torches, scythes, knives, and even some swords. I saw Osmond with his baton hanging by his side. So he had joined the militia as well. All of them looked ready to kill.

"Are you ready, citizens?" Osmond exclaimed.

The mob shouted in agreement.

"Let's get 'em!"

"Hang 'em!"

"Chop 'em up!"

"Burn 'em alive!"

Shouts of various threats reverberated throughout the crowd. The thought of Lord Augustus being ripped to shreds got my feet moving. It took me a minute to acknowledge that I was running to the town's small port to somehow get a boat and save August before it was too late. This must have been what the old man meant by my fate being connected to the ocean.

At the pier, I saw a man doing some work on his rowboat.

"Excuse me, sir? Can you please get me to Lord Albion's estate? This is an emergency," I implored.

"You're a lovely little lady, aren't cha? Hmm… what's innit fer me?"

"Lord Augustus will pay you handsomely for your assistance."

"Will he now? How can I be sure?"

"I work for him. He hired me to carry out this task," I lied.

"No offense, but you don't look like someone who our dear lord would hire."

"...Don't tell anyone this, but I'm actually one of his spies. I'm keeping tabs on the town."

"Really? I always knew Augustus was upta somethin'... All right, I'll take ye there. But if I don't get me pay, then you're gonna be the one to pay fer it," he growled menacingly.

"Fine then. Let's go."

I got into the rowboat and he picked up his oars. He glared at me.

"Don't know how to row?" he mocked.

"Actually, no, I don't."

He scowled.

"Watch me, then. I'm expectin' you to learn quick. I ain't rowin' the whole way there on my own."

We began to slowly glide across the water's surface around the coast to Lord Augustus's estate.


	9. Part 9

**BANG BANG BANG**

"Lord Augustus! I need to speak with you immediately!"

I continued to shout and pound away on the mansion's door, but still no one answered. Where could he be? Was he asleep? Maybe he couldn't hear me because he was in the far corner of the mansion. I ran along the side of the building and attempted to peer through the windows. However, lush red curtains blocked my view of every single one of them. I had once admired them from the inside, but now they were a major hindrance. I contemplated taking a rock and breaking through a window, but it was quite possible that Lord Augustus wasn't even currently in the manor. He could be out hunting in the hills or holed up in his keep. I hoped that it was the latter. Determined to find out where he was and ensure his safety, I decided to head to the keep.

As I began to descend the mountain path from the manor, I came across none other than Lord Augustus himself, trotting towards me.

"Lord Albion! You're okay!"

"For the moment," he said, catching his breath. "A bevy of bloodthirsty villagers invaded the keep. I managed to slip out in the ensuing chaos."

"Are your soldiers fighting them?"

"Regrettably, yes. The last thing I desire is bloodshed. Nonetheless, I cannot tolerate insubordination from my vassals, especially not an attempt on my life."

"I understand, Lord. I came here to warn you of the attack, but I guess I was too late."

"I appreciate the intent. Do not worry yourself, for I am still alive. As for my soldiers, they are proficient enough to drive the townspeople back. Do tell, how much of the assault on the keep did you observe?"

"None of it, Lord. I came from the sea."

"Ah, that is good. Someone of your age should not witness the savagery of battle. Anyways, we should not remain here for much longer. Dear waif, can you take me to your ship?"

"Of course, Lord. Though it isn't my ship. I obtained the services of a lone sailor."

"I see. I would be happy to compensate you for any payment for his services."

"Yes, about that…"

* * *

"That'll be 1500 gold coins, my Lord."

"That is acceptable." Lord Augustus revealed a large pouch and handed it to the sailor. "That should be 1500, more or less."

The man's eyes gleamed at the sight of the money bag. "A pleasure doin' business with ya! Allow me to row us out of view from the pier."

I could barely make out some torchlight in the distance in the direction of the Albion keep. The man began to row, but this time he didn't demand my assistance.

"Lord Augustus, is it okay if I ask you a few questions?"

"That very much depends on what they are. What are your questions?"

"Have you heard of the stories of the murderous woman in the forest?"

He eyed me blankly. "No, I have not."

"Oh, I see…"

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up with a grin.

"My dear Sidney, you cannot believe everything you hear. An intelligent girl like you should know this by now."

I pondered what he had just said. Did that wisdom apply to what he says too?

"Of course, Lord. It's just that people are saying that her appearance is because of you. I have no idea how that could happen, and I was absolutely sure that you had nothing to do with it."

"Then why did you ask me about it if not for your doubts surrounding my culpability?"

"I sincerely apologize, Lord. That was not my intention. The reason for my asking was not to accuse you of anything! I just wanted to find out if the stories of her existence were true. Since you're the master of this domain, I know that you have more knowledge of the happenings of this place than anyone else does."

His expression suddenly darkened. "Then let me make it clear for you, waif: I have no knowledge of or responsibility for whatever supposed boogie man or woman is lurking in my forests. I even highly doubt the existence of such a person."

I subconsciously leaned away from him. It was as if something sinister was possessing him while he spoke. But after a moment, it was gone. He smiled.

"I am sorry for my over-defensiveness. The thought of murders occurring on my estate deeply disturbs me, just like the unfortunate battle that is happening currently at the keep."

I remained wary of Lord Augustus. I had been on edge the entire night, and not even his words or his presence eased me this time. I spent the rest of the time staring at the coast silently. Lord Augustus and the sailor talked about random subjects, but I paid them no attention. My thoughts were with the men and women from the town that may not be coming back from the fight. Did I care more about my own townspeople or Lord Albion?

About an hour after the torchlights died away, August ordered the sailor to return us to his estate. Lord Augustus stepped off the boat onto the pier.

"Take her back to town, Stanley."

"That'd be me pleasure, Lord. For a small fee, of course!"

Lord Augustus threw Stanley another pouch of gold.

"Stanley. I may have further use of you and your crew's services. We will be in touch."

"Understood, Lord. I look forward to it." We shoved off and started to row back to town.

"Keep the happenings of tonight secret, you two," Augustus shouted.

We both nodded. After an hour of rowing, we got back to the town's pier. I quickly got off the boat and made my way back to town. I was greeted by a grisly sight in the town square. Almost fifty members of the militia were heavily wounded. Blood was flowing everywhere. Their bodies were swathed with bloody bandages. People were groaning and moaning in pain. To the side near one of the buildings was a long row of presumably dead bodies covered with cloth. The town's nurses and doctors were working feverishly to save the lives of as many people as possible. Among the wounded, I saw Osmond, leaning against the fountain in the center of the square. Both his arms and one his legs were bandaged up. I rushed to his side.

"Officer Osmond, what happened? Did you guys win?"

He winced as he turned to look at me. "No, we did not. But it was confirmed that Lord Augustus is up to no good."

"Huh? What did you find out?"

"The soldiers at his keep. They were…. They were animated skeletons… undead."


	10. Part 10

Every person I asked in the next few days only confirmed further what Osmond had told me: there were indeed undead warriors in Lord Albion's keep. My first thought was that they could be under the control of the necromancers that had terrorized the town a few weeks back. However, I remember Lord Augustus told me that he had killed those very necromancers, so that couldn't be true. Perhaps some other malevolent being was controlling those soldiers? ...That was improbable. So, the most likely conclusion was that Lord Augustus was responsible for the bone warriors. If this was true, then he was extremely dangerous! I rubbed my throat. I had a hard time believing that the August I had come to know and respect could be a necromancer, but everything inside me was screaming that he was. I decided that I would be the one to get to the bottom of this. I knew him the best and had actually seen much of his estate. It was time to gather evidence.

First, I talked to the people who had encountered the hag. They gave me somewhat of an idea of what she looked like, but her appearance didn't remind me of anyone that I knew. All I knew that she was big, smelly, and hideous. I wasn't ready to go into the forest myself and ask the murderous hag my questions, so that was all the information that I could go off of. There was no connection to Lord Augustus there except for the fact that she was living in his forest.

Next, I talked to the militia who had fought the undead at the Albion keep. They told me that the skeletons were well-armed and extremely tough. Most of the skeletons looked like they had been there for centuries, judging from the color of their bones, but there were a few that gleamed with an ominous fresh-white aura. I concluded that those were the ones that had been raised recently. These skeletons were the best evidence I had for linking Lord Augustus to the crazy happenings recently. They were in his keep, defending it for him. He had probably fled the keep during the battle to avoid danger and a connection to the skele-

I suddenly remembered something. The people had told me that the hag had thrown mysterious magical spices and dead animals at them before snatching away those immobilized by the assault. She was wearing a belt with many different pouches hanging off of it. There was a person who matched this description that was connected to Lord Augustus: Acta! I remembered that she was living with Lord Augustus and loved to buy all sorts of strange herbs from town. The last time I had encountered her, she killed some townspeople and dragged away one of their bodies. Thus, my unfortunate hypothesis that Lord Augustus was responsible for everything was all but confirmed. The only task left would be to apprehend Lord Augustus and have him confess to his crimes. A small part of me still believed that he was innocent and that this was a colossal misunderstanding, but I knew better.

Apprehending him would be difficult, however. We just witnessed our town's militia get crushed by his bone army. It would probably take every single person in this town storming the keep to stand a chance. It was possible to call to another neighboring region for aid, but that would take an eternity, not only for their soldiers to get here, but also to convince the other lords that Lord Augustus was actually a necromancer. He was held in high regard in this country, after all.

"You've begun on the path, freo," a raspy voice crackled into my ear. That gave me a great start. I backed away and turned around to see the hooded old man from the other day.

"Old man, where did you come from? You scared me!"

"That doesn't matter. I've spent all day warning the people here of their impending doom, but it appears that person who understands the true threat the most was the one who wasn't listening," he growled, pointing at me.

"Trust me, everyone could hear your shouting, old man. You've managed to gather quite the rabble."

"I am simply playing my role, as you must as well. Now hear this, dear freo. Nothing you do can save me or you, but nevertheless, we must continue on our paths."

"We're in danger?"

"Yes and no. Any threat on our lives are in the very distant future. But our livelihoods are soon to be inverted. You seem to be a lovely and caring young lady. Do not worry for me."

"All right…but I'm not sure I understand."

Suddenly, screams came from the town square. Both the old man and I hurried to the source. A group of green-hooded men armed with dangerous swords and muskets had appeared, opposite the town mob that had gathered in the square. On the ground between them was a townsperson riddled with bullet holes, bleeding out. He was moaning terribly.

"Murderers!" someone yelled in horror.

A mountain of a man stepped out to the front of the mysterious group. He brandished his enormous cat o' nine tails and whipped the ground, making a threatening sound.

"Lord Albion tells us that you peasants have been acting up recently!" he roared. "We're here to maintain law and order, simple as that!"

"That is my job!" A man with a cane hobbled out to the front of the townspeople. It was the venerable sheriff. "I see that after I rebuffed Lord Albion's bribes, he hired you unscrupulous men. You will find that we do not bend so easily to brigands."

Osmond rushed to the man's side. "Yes, my father and I will bring you all to justice!"

"Well, if it ain't the sheriff himself. You'll be glad to know that we're only here to tell you all that all this mobbing and gathering in the town square goes directly against Lord Albion's wishes. Keep it up, and we'll be forced to do something severe. Anyone who dares go against us will end up like that piece of cheese down there."

He gestured to the now dead man on the dirt. Unfazed, the old man went from my side and walked up directly to the mountain man. There was some sort of demonic fire in his eyes.

"You only aid the coming of the inevitable end! Leave at once! You know not what you do!" he called out.

The huge brigand easily picked up the old man and brought him up to his face.

"Ah. You must be the rabble rouser Lord Albion told us about. He has a fantastic punishment in store for you."

The group of bandits took the old man to the pillories and locked him in one.

"He has been sentenced to death in the pillories. Anyone who dares feed him or give him water will be executed without mercy. We will be leaving some guards in town to ensure order here. Be on your best behavior. If we see another unlawful gathering, you can be sure that there will be harsh consequences."

For the next week, people were caught trying to aid the old man, but all of them were caught and beheaded in front of everyone else. Other townspeople were minding their own business when they were accused of fake crimes by the bandit guards and were executed as well. In response, secret meetings were held, and eventually, one final assault was organized to defeat all the brigands and take back the town.


	11. Part 11

"Sigman here knows where the main bandit camp is. At exactly midnight, we'll all meet in front of the forest. This way, we can get 'em all while they're sleeping. This combined with the fact that we outnumber them means that they're history."

"And what about the hag?"

"If we see her, then we kill her. This time we ain't defenseless travelers. We're an army."

"What if it's a total rout like at the Albion keep?"

"Like I just said, we're an army now. We got almost every grown man from the town armed and pissed off. Their brigade of bandits won't be enough to fend all of us off."

I saw a patrolling bandit walking our direction, so I whispered into the dark meeting room. "Psst! One of them is coming! Hush up!"

I closed the door and stood there with my basket full of loaves of bread. The conspirators inside shut up. The bandit walked up to me.

"Hello, sir. Would you like to buy some bread?" I asked him in my sweetest voice.

He glared at me and swiped one of the loaves away. Without breaking his gaze, he took a huge bite out of the bread. He chewed, his face scrunched up, and he spat mushy bread out. He threw the rest of the loaf at me, hitting me square in the face.

"Disgusting."

He continued on with his patrol. After he turned away, I stuck my tongue out at him.

"The jerk is gone," I whispered into the room.

"That bastard. Those are some of the finest loaves I've ever baked," someone muttered angrily.

"All the more reason to wipe them out tonight. All of you, inform the army that we're meeting at midnight, as planned."

* * *

Nighttime came. I wanted to help fight against the brigands, but I decided against it since I would probably just get in the way, or even worse, get injured or killed. I wasn't ready to die until I got the truth out of Lord Augustus. Instead, at midnight, I went to the pillories to see if I could sneak the poor old man some water. It was a miracle that he had survived this long without it. The brigands kept the pillories well-guarded, so no one had successfully given him any food or water.

I hid behind a building with a jug of water, peering into the square where the old man was being held. As before, there were around eight armed bandits guarding him. Someone had wrapped a cloth blindfold over his eyes. I decided to wait for a while to see if the bandits would let their guard down or leave their posts.

BOOOOOOM!

An enormous explosion erupted from somewhere far away, but it seemed like it came from the forest. A feeling of dread creeped down through my stomach. One of the bandits pointed in the direction of the forest, and most of them moved out, but two of them remained to watch over the old man. Darn. For the next minute, I thought about if I should try and take down the two bandits and how I would do that.

Without warning, the old man let out a howl and ripped the board out of the pillory. He was like a man possessed. With his head and arms still stuck in the huge wooden board, he swung himself into the both of the bandits' heads. The wood hit their heads with sickening cracks, and they fell to the ground.

"The end is coming!" he screamed.

He ran off in the same direction as the bandits did. I wanted to yell after him not to go, but it looked like he was in a terrifying rage.

BOOOOOOM!

Once again, the explosion rang out. This time, I was sure that its point of origin was the forest. I trotted over to the two bandits and checked their pulses. Nothing. I picked up one of their blood-crusted swords and carefully made my way to the forest. I just had to know what those explosions were.

I avoided detection and eventually arrived at the forest. A man with one of his legs seemingly ripped off crawled towards me on the dirt path, writhing in pain.

"Save… me…"

He keeled over. I ran to his side, but it was too late for him. I hurried into the forest and found a gruesome trail of dead townspeople, each with limbs missing or other fatal injuries. I steeled myself and made my way forward, my morbid curiosity getting the better of me. Finally, I could hear some grunting through the trees. I quickly dived behind a tree and looked out from behind it to investigate. The bandit camp was in the clearing. I saw something large and metal in the center of the camp so I got closer to make out what it was.

Surrounded by a few dead bandits and a lot of dead townspeople was a giant war machine of terrible implication. I had heard of cannons before, but I had never seen one in person. This cannon was absolutely colossal. It was a hulking iron abomination. The sides of the cannon were decorated with the crests of none other than the Albion family, confirming my deepest fears. The whole thing was mounted on a wooden chariot of sorts, partly plated with iron. A cannon of this size could easily tear through a castle wall, not to mention human flesh. The presence of this thing explained the loud explosion from earlier and the mutilated corpses of the townspeople on the trail and surrounding the bandit camp. Only a few of the brigands had been killed, and it seemed like only a few of the townspeople had survived. The cannon must have caught them by surprise, leading to their demise. The bandits were piling the dead bodies onto a series of wagons.

"Looks like we have enough food to last the fat king for the next week, at least," one bandit said, throwing a body into a wagon.

"Thanks to this beaut," another one replied, patting the cannon. "And thanks to the townspeople for their thoughtful donation."

I left the camp and headed back home, deeply disturbed by what I had seen. Were the brigands going to punish the rest of the town for the actions of the army? So many townspeople were killed in that massacre that the town seemed empty when I returned in the morning. Not too long after I got back, a large group of bandits got to town and went around to the houses, ordering everyone to assemble in the town square. The giant bandit stepped out again and began yelling.

"Peasants! Many of your men came last night in hopes of killing us! Don't worry, we didn't let that happen," he announced with a wicked grin. The people in the crowd were dead silent. "Of course, we can't let their traitorous actions go unpunished. That's why we brought this to town."

Two horses strained to pull the giant cannon into the town square. This time, the silence was broken by gasps.

"Since the population of this town has so dramatically declined in the past day, all of these nice buildings seem unnecessary. Men?"

The bandits rotated the cannon, aiming it straight at the tavern.

"No issues here, so long as everyone heard our orders to gather here. Fire!"

A matchman lit the fuse on the cannon. People screamed in protest but were drowned out by its deafening roar. The cannonball plowed straight through the side of the tavern's roof, blowing the entire roof off.

"Next!" the giant shouted, pointing at the blacksmith's workshop.

One by one, all of the buildings in town were shot through. The last one to be ravaged was the abbey. I must have been shouting the loudest as the fuse was lit and the cannonball punched through the steeple of the abbey, bringing it down. I broke into tears. Although I never liked the place that much, it was still my home. Seeing the building shake from the impact tore at my heart.

"How could you, you monsters!?" I shouted without thinking.

"What was that, little girl? You got a problem with the punishment?"

"You'll pay for this! I swear it!"

"Matchman. Teach this whelp how we handle disobedience."

He pointed the cannon a little lower and lit the fuse again.

"No, wait! I'm sorry!"

Too late. Another cannonball burst out and blew a massive hole in the roof of the abbey. The whole structure wobbled and most of the beautiful stain glass windows shattered.

"No… no…"

I crumpled to the floor and cried.


	12. Part 12

The next year was truly miserable. The bandits took full advantage of the town's resources, working us like slaves. They grew crueler with each passing day as their confidence surged. No one dared to speak up against them, especially not after the horrible punishments they inflicted on the mysterious old man. That old man… some of us started to believe that he was an omen of doom from God himself, since he seemed immortal. We had begun to call him the Prophet. I had personally witnessed his otherworldly escape from the pillories, and many townspeople had seen his public executions. The bandits had chained several iron balls to the old man's body and thrown him into the frigid ocean waters. They had stabbed numerous daggers into his back and then thrown him into the frigid ocean waters. Every time, after a few months, he would miraculously reappear alive in our town square, spewing more talk about Lord Augustus and the inevitable destruction of the world that he would cause. He bore all the signs of the bandits' previous execution attempts: the pillory board around his neck and arms, the iron balls chained to his limbs, and the daggers deep in his back.

Every so often, a townsperson would be executed for committing a minor crime. We were outraged, but we could do nothing as our numbers had dwindled. We could only watch as they would throw the body onto a wagon and cart it off to the Albion estate. If the stories were true, there were many places that corpse could be going: it could be food for the squealing monsters that supposedly lived in the Warrens; It could be used for dreadful experiments by the Hag that hunted in the Weald; or it could be reanimated through necromancy, bolstering the ranks of the undead that patrolled the Albion keep. I had yet to see any of these things in person, but from what I gathered from the other townsfolk and the scant whisperings of the brigands themselves, this was the situation.

But everything changes. Slowly but surely, more and more bandits left our wretched hamlet of a town until all of them had departed. They still came into town every once in awhile to demand some food, but I soon found out that most of them had gone to live permanently within the twisted trees of the Weald or prey on travelers on the Old Road leading to our town. This relieved us greatly, but part of me wondered what had caused this change. Had Lord Augustus decided to grant us mercy? Maybe he believed that we had learned our lesson.

I didn't notice until this point that the relentless stream of diggers had stopped going to the Albion estate as well. They had been coming through our hamlet regularly for this whole time that everyone had forgot about them. Had Lord Augustus finished his digging? Maybe he didn't need their services or the bandits' services anymore. Whatever he was up to was finished. Did that mean it was safe to go see him? Perhaps it was time to pay him a visit. I had saved up my money for the past year, thinking about what the bandits had done to the hamlet and our precious abbey. I asked the blacksmith for his sharpest dagger and presented him my gold, but he refused payment and gave me the blade for free.

"Do what needs to be done, child," he growled, patting my shoulder.

I needed to find out the truth of what Lord Augustus was doing, and if he was guilty, then I needed to kill him.

Going by foot through the Weald to the Albion manor was too risky, so I made my way to the hamlet's pier once again. I prayed that Stanley would be there to give me another boat ride to the Albion estate, and luckily, my prayers were answered. He and a large group of rough-looking men were hauling chests and barrels onto a massive ship. There were a series of enormous wooden crates still on the pier. How were they planning to load those onto the ship?

"Mister Stanley! May I have a moment of your time?"

"Sidney, is that you? So yer still alive...!"

He put down the small wooden crate he was carrying and walked up to me. It seemed like he had gotten taller. He was adorned with expensive jewelry and glittering chains. There were injuries on his face that weren't there before, most noticeably the eyepatch over his left eye.

"Are you working as a merchant now, Mister Stanley?"

"Aye, you could call it that. And it's Captain Stanley to you, girl."

"Captain? Wow, so that's your ship?"

"Yes it is, little missy. The past year, she's been kind to me!" He chuckled and patted me on the head. His face suddenly darkened. "Now off ya go then. Me and me men got work to do."

"Well, actually, I have a request to make of you, Captain Stanley." He seemed to like hearing his new title.

"And what could I do for ya?"

"I need another ride to the Albion estate."

"Ah… what's yer reason? Did he call for ya?"

"Yes he did."

He eyed me suspiciously. "You know, these days he only takes visitors if he requests them personally, and we're the ones he sends to pick them up. My memory's bad, but still, I don't remember him mentioning you. At all. So why don't ya run along, now?"

He rested his hand on the hilt of the scimitar strapped to his waist. Behind him, I noticed men were boarding Stanley's ship with digging tools. So that's how they were getting to the Albion estate.

"Okay, Captain. I don't want any trouble," I said, backing away with this new information.

"Good. I don't want to see you on this pier again. It's for your own good."

I reluctantly turned around and headed back towards the hamlet. So Lord Augustus was still going on with the dig. The best way to get to his manor now was to make the arduous journey along the edge of the peninsula, bypassing the Weald through the rocky crags and unexplored sands of the coast. I would then ascend the mountain to his manor, find him, and put an end to all of this. I spent a few days preparing myself physically and mentally. With my dagger sharpened and my wits about me, I set off for the pier once again.


	13. Part 13

I made my way to the pier again and began my journey at sunset along the coast of the peninsula to the Albion estate. Alone and under the cover of night, I easily avoided detection but had great difficulty with the unpaved terrain. It must have taken me around six hours to traverse through the rocks and roots that littered the coast. On the way, I saw the horrid shadow that the Weald cast in the distance. It was as if malfeasance had drenched its land, depleting all positive energy from the forest. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I could hear the faintest hints of squealing as well.

After what seemed like an eternity, the hill on which Lord Augustus's manor was perched was in view. As I was about to start my ascent, I heard far-off screaming.

I could barely make out the terrified words, "The end is coming! The end is coming! The end is coming!"

Was that the Prophet? It sounded like he was running from the manor. I wanted to go and check what was wrong, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed a large ship in the distance. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was Stanley's ship. Curious as to how he was delivering goods and men to the manor without using the roads and without a proper pier next to the Albion manor, I stealthily followed the vessel along the coast. The Prophet had survived everything done to him before, so I was sure that he was fine.

I hid behind a pile of large rocks when the ship had dropped anchor near the back of the mansion. A series of small dinghies full of men and crates were rowed to the steep rock face. How were they going to scale the mountain? This question was quickly answered as the men got off their boats and onto a sheltered pier built into the side of the mountain. They began to climb a steep set of stone stairs that led up to the manor. I had no idea that all of this existed. However, it looked as though these features were constructed recently and were made with the sole purpose of being inconspicuous. As for the crates, the men securely tied the crate-packed dinghies to a series of chains dangling off from the top of the mountain. A man at the bottom gave a shout, and soon after, the dinghy was lifted straight out of the water. There was a discreet system of pulleys that was easily hoisting the dinghies up to the mansion. This was all very elaborate. The extent to which Lord Augustus tried to keep all of this secret did not bode well. Nonetheless, my path to the Albion manor was now obvious.

I waited until all of the sailors had finished unloading the dinghies and the workers. They boarded the boats and rowed them back to their ship. Finally, the ship set sail and disappeared over the horizon. I waited a few more minutes just to be safe. Just when I was about to head to the stone stairs, I saw a singular light appear at the top of the mansion. It began to descend. I once again hid myself behind the rocks and peeked out. It was one man bearing a torch. He got to the bottom of the stairs and walked to the edge of the pier. It was none other than Lord Albion himself. He shouted in an unintelligible language at the ocean. He continued this for over a minute. Had he lost his mind?

The calm surface of the water began to ripple. I blinked, and then appeared a clan of atrocious mutant fish. These fish were huge, bipedal monsters, a ghastly cross between human and fish. I barely managed stifled my shocked scream. One of them began to respond to Lord Augustus with the same strange language. He was in league with these horrors? I started to shake uncontrollably. August, the man that I had once looked up to...

They talked for a long time. I got colder and colder. A feeling of fear was steadily building in my stomach. Everything was growing numb. It was time to act. I stepped out from behind my cover and drew my dagger. Before I could charge towards Lord Augustus, their conversation was done. The fishmen stuck their arms up in the air and gave a bone-chilling howl as they sank beneath the waters once again. The howl sent a wave of supernatural and unholy dread washing over me, and before I knew it, I was scrambling away. Every fiber of my being told me to run as far away as I could. My felt my mind fraying and ripping apart. I flew away cackling and weeping along the darkened coast for who knows how long, until I finally passed out.

* * *

When I came to, I was on a bed. Everything hurt. Sitting up was a painful ordeal, but I managed it anyway. Where was I? Had Lord Augustus captured me? After I took a closer look at my surroundings, I sighed in relief. This dilapidated building couldn't be Lord Augustus's manor. It was most definitely the hamlet tavern.

"The girl is in here. Please help her," someone said from outside the room. The door swung open and two armored figures entered. One was a young man wearing a chainmail tunic and had a beat-up looking longsword strapped to his back. His armor bore the cross of the church. The other was a robed young woman in old plate mail with a tarnished mace hooked on her belt. In her hands was a book also adorned with the cross of the church. Could the man be a holy warrior of the church, a mighty Crusader? And could this woman be a sister of battle, a Vestal? I couldn't believe that I warranted so much attention.

"Is this the girl?" the Crusader asked.

"H-hello, sir. That's me. Are you a Crusader?"

"Indeed I am, my fair lady. I have held the front lines in a hundred holy wars!" he announced drawing his sword and pointing it in the air.

"Hush, you" the Vestal spoke up, rolling her eyes. "He's barely fought in ten holy wars."

"Still, that's still very impressive. And are you a Vestal, miss?" I inquired.

"I am. I was ordained a Vestal very recently, actually. Of course, it's nothing to brag about. I simply do my duty. Anyways, I am here to heal your injuries."

"That would be amazing. Thank you, Sister."

The Vestal flipped through her book and began a holy incantation. She then raised her mace to the sky and let out a final shout. I felt an incredible feeling of relaxation and ease flow through my entire body. The bumps and bruises all over my body seemingly evaporated with all of my pain along with them.

"There. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes! I can't thank you enough for healing me, Sister."

"No thanks are required. I simply do my duty."

"Modest as always, Sister," the Crusader stated.

"Our job here is done, Brother. Shall we continue with our assigned mission?"

"Of course, Sister. Let us go. Farewell, dear maiden!"

"Farewell! Thank you!" I called out as they exited.

After they left, I collapsed back onto the bed and buried my head in the pillow. Although my wounds were healed, my mind felt cracked. All I could think about was the black slit pupils of those monstrous fishmen. I needed some kind of relief, so I went to the most comforting place I could think of: the abbey, my lifelong home.

I went directly to the transept and began to pray to God. I prayed for alleviation. I prayed for forgiveness for my sins. I prayed for justice for all of the townspeople that had died. I prayed for guidance. I prayed that everything I had witnessed up until now was just a bad dream. I prayed for hope. I prayed for knowledge. I prayed for insight.

Suddenly, a vivid image of a constellation of stars was blasted into my mind. I saw a great spherical object with an enormous beating heart within it, floating among the cosmos. It pulsed inexorably; I could hear every vibration within my own body. Without warning, the sphere violently exploded and a curtain of writhing tentacles enveloped my vision. I jumped up with a start and opened my eyes. I frantically looked around. I was still in the abbey. Everything was normal. What had I just witnessed? Was this a vision from God himself? Was this His idea of some sort of sick joke? Finding the opposite of comfort from my prayers in the abbey, I felt in my soul that my new-found torment would only end with Lord Augustus. It was time.

* * *

The full moon glowed an ominous shade of red, and it was bigger than I had ever seen it. It hung low in the night sky, drowning out the light from the stars. I made my way to the hamlet pier with purpose. I would make Stanley take me to Lord Augustus' estate, no matter what. I gripped my dagger tightly, anticipating all sorts of trouble. However, when I arrived, the pier was devoid of life, save for one figure near the very edge of the pier. His face was illuminated by torchlight.

Lord Augustus Albion.

He was standing next to some sort of large statue that had been set on the pier. I couldn't quite make out the other details of the statue from this distance, but the details of its octopus-like head with tentacles and leering eyeballs were clear.

"My dear waif... I have so much to expound. I owe you an explanation more than anyone from your town," Lord Augustus called out, seeing me approaching. "I have committed terrible sins, and I seek to atone for my crimes. I beg for your mercy." He threw his torch into the ocean and kneeled. I heard him begin to sob. "This darkness… it is consuming my sanity. There is no doubt I have been possessed by some foul deity. Sidney, please…"

Seeing Lord Augustus bawling on the ground made me sympathetic. His torment was exactly how I felt after those fishmen let out that ungodly howl. His mind must have been affected too.

"Kill me, waif. Kill me and end my suffering. It would be doing me a favor!"

"Is… is that really what you want me to do?"

"Yes… please. I beg of you, Sidney. Look at me! Come and look at what I've become!"

I walked up to him, hesitant about drawing my dagger and killing this poor man. He had to undergo all of this suffering alone this whole time? I stretched out my hand to him instead.

"Lord Augustus, please stand up. I can help you through this," I said gently.

He looked up at me. Through the light from the blood moon, I could see that he had aged considerably. His face was wrinkling, and his hair was beginning to grey. There was a hint of deep sorrow in his eyes. What had happened to make him look like a man almost twice his age?

"Hey… what… what is this statue?" I asked.

Suddenly, he leapt at my legs and I heard a snapping sound. I felt something cold around my left ankle. Looking down, I saw that he had snapped a metal shackle onto my left leg, connecting me to the leering statue with an iron chain. He got up and walked out my reach before I could grab at him. I tried to open the shackle and tug at the chain, but it was too secure and the statue was too heavy. He began to cackle.

"Lord Augustus! Release me!" I shouted, panicked.

"Foolish little waif! How could you approach me like that? Surely you must have appreciated the dangerous position you put yourself in. After all, you have heard all of the gossip about me."

"Tell me, Augustus: are the rumors true? Are you really responsible for everything?" I asked while desperately trying to break the chain.

"Since your role in this little tale will soon expire, I will graciously answer you: Yes."

"The necromancy?"

"Yes. Those necromancers that passed through town? I summoned them to my estate. After learning their secrets, I killed them."

"So you used all of those townspeople's bodies for necromancy?"

"Not completely correct. A great deal of them contributed to my summoning rituals, both as hosts for spirits as well as food for the giant beast that I managed to successfully bring to this world. A stupid and voracious one, but very large."

"What about the Hag in the Weald?"

"The Weald? Ah… the forest? Yes. Dear Acta was getting too primitive, experimenting on herself with her ingredients. The explosion she caused in my manor took weeks to repair. I sent her to the Weald where her savagery would be accepted."

"And you hired the bandits?"

"Yes I did, though they are not currently working for me anymore. You see, all of my excavations and occult research have exhausted what remained of my family fortune. Thus, I could no longer afford their services. However, Sidney, it is thanks to you that my financial difficulties will be solved."

"What? How?"

He walked over to the statue and rested his palm on its face.

"The fishmen, the Pelagics… they have unimaginable treasures amassed beneath the waters and in their coves. I struck a pact with them: they grant me the wealth I need to continue my work in exchange for what they wanted…"

He rubbed the face of the statue.

"This beautiful, obscure idol…"

He suddenly turned to me and grabbed me by the throat, rubbing my face with his other hand.

"...and this beautiful, obscure girl."

Realization dawned on me. I was to be Lord Augustus's tribute to the fishmen.

"No… no!"

I reached for my dagger, but he pulled it out and threw it into the water before I could get to it.

"I am terribly sorry it had to end like this, waif. You simply know too much. You never should have made it your hobby to shadow my every errand. I must admit, it was charming then, but it became troublesome later," he said, shaking his head. "When they demanded this obscure idol and one other item of more... troubling portent, I did not know which young woman I was going to sacrifice. However, right after the deal was made, I saw none other than you, hiding behind the rocks, a familiar witness to our meeting. It gifted me with this benign inspiration. You are perfect."

"Please, Lord Augustus. Please don't do this. It's not too late," I wailed.

"But you see, my dear, it IS too late for me. I may have said that you know too much. But me? … I KNOW TOO MUCH."

He gave the statue a small push. It tipped over, fell into the water, and disappeared into the ocean. The iron chain began to follow, quickly snaking its way into the ocean after the statue. Horror overcame me. I had to say something, anything, to Lord Augustus before I was pulled under.

But I could find no words. A violent force pulled me from the pier and slammed me into the icy waters. I panicked. I realized that I would drown. The need for air immediately became all I could think about. Light was quickly fading as I was pulled deeper into the ocean, away from the red light of the blood moon. I tried to swim upwards, but the statue was simply too heavy. The freezing water numbed my entire body, crushing it within its grasp. It was probably best to not struggle in order to stay alive as long as possible. My chest and my ears started to hurt more and more. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by complete murky darkness. My body was screaming at me to take a breath, but I resisted as hard as I could. As the seconds passed, the anguish in my chest grew more and more.

I should have killed Augustus when I had the chance. I shouldn't have just walked up to him. He tricked me. I failed the hamlet. I failed everyone. How could I have been so blind? This is unbelievable. How could everything end like this? This is all my fault. I deserve this. No, it should have been Augustus that drowned. I should have taken him with me.

My thoughts were interrupted by my eardrums bursting, crippling my head with intense agony. I screamed, but nothing came out. Instead, overcome by my urge to breath, my body took a convulsive breath. I felt the chilly water pour into my lungs, filling them completely. I could no longer move my arms or legs in protest of the overwhelming pain in my chest. My thoughts grew hazy as I felt Death coming to claim me. At long last, the pain of life was fading...


	14. Epilogue

"The smell of rotting fish is almost unbearable…" the Vestal whispered.

"You'll have to get used to it, Sister. It only gets worse the deeper we venture," the Crusader responded.

Four adventures bunched together around the small campfire, trying to remain covert, but the darkness all around left them feeling powerless. The black coves were uncomfortably humid and the floors were coated with a disgusting and slippery slime. It was as if they were in the stomach of some drooling beast. Worst of all, constant eerie melodies and ethereal bass notes reverberated from deeper within.

"It wasn't always like this. The last time I visited these lands was about ten years ago. The hamlet was a bustling town. There were no monsters and no bandits," the man with a red bandana muttered.

"Yes, what Dismas says is true. I used to be a lawman around these parts, but my family was forced out of town. I saw firsthand the horrible things that happened to the hamlet," another man said, stroking his dog's head.

"What a strange coincidence. Brother Reynauld and I visited this area ten years ago as well. We were sent by the church to investigate reports of undead," the Vestal whispered.

"So we all are bound to these lands. Thus, it is our duty to cleanse them," Reynauld declared.

"I don't mind getting rid of more of those smelly fishmen. The way they stare at you with their eyes is unnatural," Dismas said, shaking his head.

"Let us do just that, after we camp for the night, of course."

"Good idea, Osmond. Your hound will keep watch during the night, right?"

"Of course. She's steadfast."

"Good night, then."

* * *

The adventurers had chopped through legions of Pelagics, but their wills were growing weak. Even the hearts of experienced adventurers like theirs were vulnerable to the inevitable build-up of stress.

"Agh!" the Vestal yelled, pulling a spear tip out of her arm. "What are we doing here? This is hopeless…"

"Remain stern, Sister! Listen! Do you not hear the melodies? They are as strong as ever. That means our prey is near," Reynauld pointed out.

Osmond put a finger to his mouth and waved over his companions. He had found an ancient doorway. On the doors were carved two tentacles holding an arc or strange tiara of sorts. Judging from the sounds, it was clear that the source of the mysterious singing was in that area.

"Ready?" he whispered.

The rest of the party nodded. Reynauld opened the door and they filed in one by one. In the center of the dark cave was a giant mermaid, except this mermaid was anything but beautiful. Her top half was also fish except for her scaly arms with webbed claw-fingers. She had a large dorsal fin on her back and a starfish in her long silver hair. Her face looked like a cross between that of a fish and an old man. An esca dangled from her forehead, giving off a tiny light. In her left hand-claw was an oversized conch. She shrieked at the sight of the hideous red-fleshed creatures.

"It's the Siren. Attack!" Reynauld yelled. The party began their assault on the mutant mermaid. Dismas sliced at her with his wicked blade, leaving a small gash on her side.

"Sick 'er, girl!"

The Houndmaster's dog barked twice and rushed at the Siren, taking a mean bite out of the big fish. She howled in pain and began to glare intently at Dismas.

"She's up to something! Watch out!" Dismas shouted.

Dismas saw the Siren's features change drastically. Her top half suddenly transformed into that of a beautiful, fully grown maiden. She sang and whispered sweet nothings into his mind. He felt compelled to help this gorgeous, poor young mermaid fight off those terrible fleshlings he once considered allies. However, before he was completely entranced by her spell, he looked up at her face. It was a face that he had seen a long time ago, and it kept him anchored to reality.

"No!" the Vestal cried out.

The Vestal raised her mace, and an explosion of dazzling light blinded the Siren. With her concentration broken, Dismas saw her once again in her natural, horrific form.

"Thanks for the assist. She tried to enchant me with her music," Dismas explained, aiming his pistol at the Siren.

"Enchant this!" Reynauld yelled. He smited her with a mighty blow from his longsword. She recoiled from the blow, but brought the conch to her mouth and blew. Out of nowhere, a Pelagic fishman had appeared in front of his queen with a barbed spear.

"More reinforcements are on the way! Let's finish this before more get here!" Osmond shouted.

The Siren turned her attention to Osmond and sang at him. He saw the same beautiful version of the Siren as Dismas had just seen, but it was the face of the Siren once again that broke her hold over him

"What? Is that… is that Sidney?" Although her hair was now grey, the features of her face were unmistakable.

Sidney had mysteriously disappeared from the hamlet ten years ago. Some time after that, the melodies started to emerge from the cove, drawing in poor townspeople to their dooms. Osmond had always wondered what became of that unfortunate little waif, but now it was clear: the aquatic devils had remade the poor girl in their image. She was their queen, and their slave!

"We must put an end to this tortured soul's life!" Osmond exclaimed, now knowing the dreadful truth.

The heroes and the Siren and her guards traded hefty blows. She called out monstrous tentacles with teeth from her conch to rip the skin off the adventurers. The adventurers responded in kind with steel, bullet, and fang. She and her horrors were threatening, but not threatening enough to defeat the adventurers who had crushed hundreds of skeletons, swine, and slimes in the past weeks with ease. Before long, Reynauld delivered the final blow, thrusting his longsword straight through the Siren's chest.

"Hideous matriarch, vile queen of the the aphotic depths! You have no place in the sane world!" he roared, twisting his blade in the beast.

The Siren screeched in agony and fell to the slimy cove ground. Reynauld pulled his sword out and stepped back. Osmond looked at the poor beast. She was coughing and spitting out a strange blue fluid. He walked to her side and kneeled next to her.

"Miss Sidney. It is you... I'm sorry."

The Siren turned to look into Osmond's eyes. For a brief moment, he saw something human.

"Ossss..." she gurgled. "Ssss… mooond."

"Damn it all, it is you! Curse these damn fishmen!"

The life in her eyes began to fade. She coughed once more, spewing out an sickening amount of body fluid.

"Thank… you…" she hissed. With that, the Siren turned over and expired.

"Our duty here is done, Osmond. Take some joy in that, my friend. Seafaring trade can resume again now that the routes are safe," Reynauld commented. He saw Osmond staring sadly at the body. "So you knew this wretched thing?"

"Yes… her name was Sidney. She lived in the hamlet as I did."

Suddenly, the huge body of the Siren seemed to disappear, leaving behind the body of a girl. It was Sidney, without a doubt.

"Osmond, it seems that the powers that be want us to give her a proper burial. Shall we take her?" the Vestal asked.

* * *

They laid her to rest under the great withering tree in the hamlet graveyard. Gold was tight, and the residents of the hamlet weren't willing to pay much for a forgotten girl's funeral. The best the heroes could do was for a tombstone was two wooden planks tied together with rope to form a crude cross. Osmond took it upon himself to dig her grave, but Dismas felt it was only right to help. Reynauld, Dismas's unlikely battle brother and companion on the road to the hamlet, aided the two of them as well. It was a sobering experience, digging in the silent graveyard, the land of the departed. The Vestal said a few words before they lowered her into the ground and buried her.

The four of them and the rest of the heroes of the hamlet, although cautiously optimistic, knew somewhere deep within their hearts that death was an ever-looming threat. They knew that most of them would and already had ended up in the graveyard, covered in the poisoned earth, awaiting merciful oblivion. The waif's fate was just one of many similar stories of tragedy and doom that would inevitably repeat until the inescapable end. The heroes sought victory, a hollow and ridiculous notion. Though they would achieve some successes, they were trifling, at best. The cycle would repeat itself. Corruption would spread, and evil would blossom anew. As long as there existed the unfathomable heart of darkness, nothing they, nor anyone, could do would deliver humanity from the ravenous clutching shadows… of the Darkest Dungeon.

 **END**


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